Christmas Wish Lists
by UmbrellasInTheSun
Summary: On Christmas Eve, James Potter manages to get a list of Lily Evans' desires regarding "the perfect bloke" after she has a falling out with another, letting her realize that what she seeks might not be that difficult to obtain. Inevitable fluff, but of course!


"Aaah, wee little Evans had a bit of a falling out with young Mallard, did she now? Can't say I didn't see it coming, m'lady!" he saunters over, the effects of the alcohol dripping out of every word spoken.

I can't help but feel an unnatural blend of two emotions. Firstly, pure annoyance. He knows there's no firewhiskey allowed, and while the undesirable drink really isn't all that bad (I can't lie and say that I've never tried it), there's no assurance of what really goes into those drinks when Sirius Black is involved. Honestly, no one would enjoy the terrifying presence of a drunken Potter; we all know how it ends. In spite of the irritation though, as much is it truly shames me, there is a bit of admiration, almost leaving me content.

Was he really coming over here to comfort me about Ren? If he really bothered to come over to me in this abandoned corner of the common room…surely it meant something in that messed up mind of his, right? Reddening up a bit, I quickly drive the thought out of my already-messed up mind and focus on more important matters.

Firewhiskey, James, right.

"You know, I really don't care that we're both heads, one more incident like last time, and I'd easily turn you in to McGonagall," I hiss through narrowed eyes, conveniently not meeting his. It's rather amusing, how I pretend that I'm fierce and that I actually have the guts to go to McGonagall for something that could harm him. The woman scares me to bits and we both know that.

"Lies, Evans. Relax, I'm not actually drunk, I'm pretending for Sirius," he says calmly, and true to his word, his faux-wooziness stops. "Anyway, how could you break the bloke's heart? Especially on Christmas Eve, really, you heartless soul."

"Bit rich, coming from you. At least I did it nicely, you just attack the girls and then try to set them up with Sirius or something," I bite back.

"Hey, we're talking about you here, don't bring the topic towards me and my supposed man-slag acts. I'm just informing you that I walked into the dormitory and saw Renier sitting quietly in the corner, looking all tense and upset, with Remus crouched beside him whispering words," he grins contently.

Does he honestly care at all, or is he here to get a laugh? There's only way to understand what he's thinking, isn't there? I slowly lift my head up to see his face, his expression, anything to help me see what his true intentions are.

Shoot. Bad idea, bad idea. The moment I look up, he pierces me with warm eyes look like they're trying to uncover something.

"Look, if you're trying to find out why I cut it off with Ren, give it up. It's personal and complicated."

"You started to realize he just wasn't the one for you and his flaws became more evident, I'm guessing," he replies smugly and my eyes widen at the pure accuracy. He notices this and starts laughing, "Not complicated at all, I see!"

"No, not very personal either," I mutter under my breath. I guess dating half of the school population taught him some things.

We fall into an awkward silence in which I imagine James thinks about quidditch and he probably imagines that I think about Ren and what could have been. How unfortunately wrong he is. I reach for my Potions homework, desperate to do something. But before I manage to pick it up off of the side table, his soft hand catches my wrist and he splutters, "What were they?"

"What was what? I'm not giving you answers to the Potions questions, Potter, I hope you get that through your-," I scold him, suddenly stopping when I see his closed eyes and pursed lips, looking as though he is trying to be patient.

"No, Lily. As much as it pains me to say this, I wasn't talking about the Potions homework which you insist on finishing on Christmas Eve," he says sarcastically. "I meant, what were Renier's flaws, how did you realize that he wasn't really right for you?"

I stare at him blankly for a while. Uhm, excuse me, what does it matter to him? Who crowned him the official love doctor of Hogwarts?

Sensing my uneasiness, he slowly adds, "Was it…small?" then shuffles to the side before I have a chance to smack him. There's the James I know and (have somehow grown to) fancy. I really just choose to ignore this inappropriate question and reach for my homework once more, successfully getting it this time. Maybe, just maybe, I could forget about him and enter the world that is Potions. I hastily open my mouth, ready to ward him off and far away from me, when he suddenly literally jumps over the couch and lands in a perfect sitting position in a matter of seconds. Something only Marauders can do, I'm assuming. Snatching my schoolbag from my lap, he also grabs some parchment and one of my (no!) beloved sugar quills.

"What do you think you're doing?!" I screech at a brash volume, for this is simply not acceptable.

"Relax, Lily, I'm not going to devour these things like you do. Just some homework, I might as well do something useful for the holidays," he shrugs nonchalantly, not realizing the wave of panic he has just set over me. Er, James Potter doing something useful, on Christmas Eve, is extremely unheard of. Just now, he implied that I was mental for doing homework during the holidays. I won't complain, though. Homework could possibly shut him up, so I let him take my things without an argument. Now, for some Potions. Time passes by slowly as the answers to the questions are practically given _Advanced Potion Making_. I reach the end of the page and glance over at James, eager to see what has kept him quiet for so long.

"So…what are you doing…? An essay?" I ask, trying not to seem too desperate. I have a right to be curious, though. He hadn't disturbed me in 5 minutes, _and_ we were sitting _alone_ in the common room. This had to be some sort of Marauder record.

"Practicing some Ancient Runes translations. Rewriting helps stick it in your brain, you know," he easily turns his head towards mine, and flares that twisted smile of his in my direction. Of course I know, in fact, I bet I was the one who must've spat that out at him, one day.

"Yes, I know, that's nice, just continue working," I blurt out hurriedly; afraid of which violent actions I might resort to if he continued to grin at me. That smirk, it's just pleading at you to rearrange the positioning of his full lips somehow, maybe possibly even with your-

"Wasn't he sort of…I don't know, what's the word…er, clingy?" James snaps his fingers at getting said word correctly, looking at me for approval of this assumption. So, now we're discussing Ren, aren't we? Fantastic.

I part my lips and shut them a couple of times, deciding how to phrase his answer. "I wouldn't call it…"clingy"…it's just that, he was very, um, determined to know what was happening in my life and…er…had an interest to accompany me on various events, whether n-necessary or not and…" I stutter hesitantly, peering at James through the corner of my eye to see whether I sounded believable or not. Expectedly, his eyebrows were raised up, a teasing smiling begging to place itself on those lips.

"So…."

"So…he was clingy. Yes," I mutter sheepishly in defeat. I really don't want to discuss this any further, and turn to voice this to him, but I see that he's absorbed back into his translations, my quill in his hands flying down the page. When he reaches the very end, he stretches his hand out to snatch my book bag once again, tips his head towards mine and says, "More parchment, please?"

"Mmm," I nod, still shocked at why he's taken such an interest in his homework. All the better. If he's working, I should, too. The second page of Potions proves to be a bit harder, and we both continue working in silence, the only sound coming from James' rushed writing and me, chewing my quill, trying to remember previous notes I had written during potions. I would have reached over to get my bag and look through them, but that would involve shuffling closer to James and I might have…Merlin knows what I might have done. I contemplate between doing well in Potions and forcing myself not to do anything stupid around James for a while, until he catches the end of my quill with two fingers, unaware of the fact that I wasn't even writing.

"Remember that time at Hogsmeade when Renier started showing you off to all of his useless friends…" he shakes his head, biting his lip as though to recall the details of the memory.

"Wait, where'd you learn that from? You weren't…"

"I see things."

"More like 'scrounge-around-to-find-things-to-humiliate-me-with," I retort heatedly, crossing my arms and pivoting in mock angst. James doesn't reply, just shrugs his shoulders noncommittally, although it does look somewhat strained. Subsequently, he reaches across my lap _(ohgodohgodohgod) _and closes his fingers around the inkbottle resting on the couch. _Oh. _Right.


End file.
